The Silver Moon Bled Crimson
by AliceRed1878
Summary: 'The blood is the life,' a phrase that has haunted Tsubaki for well over a hundred years yet she repeats it. All she had been trying to do was to leave some kind of mark on the world, the good kind, then he appeared. Red hair...a shadowy reminder of what happened all those years ago. How can she handle it? Can a heart still break once it's stopped beating?
1. Chapter 1

UPDATE: 6/24/2016

* * *

Silver fangs piercing through soft flesh was as easy as a sharp spade dug through soil. With just three gulps, Tsubaki pulled herself away from her victim, cleaning the wound with her tongue so it left no trace but a purple bruise on his neck. She eased the unconscious man unto the ground among the trash and refuse of the city. Somebody would be bound to notice. He would wake up with no memory of his night, and she could only hope that he wasn't married. Her fang marks disappeared, but the bruise wouldn't, not for another week, if that.

She pulled up her hood, wiped the blood from her chin on her long black sleeve, and slinked out of the dark alley without anybody noticing a thing. As she crept out her, her victim groaned in pain. Tsubaki had no fear that he would remember anything. Still, she wanted to get away from the crime scene as soon as possible. It was very much like the aftermath of an evening of awkward drunk sex. It may feel good in the heat of the moment, but when all was said and done, you just wanted to pack up your clothes, get home with minimum damage done to your dignity, and take a long shower to wash away the stains of sweat and regret. Sneaking through the dusk shadows was her version of the infamous 'walk of shame' the Westerners referred to so very often.

"So like I was saying, this moron of a taxi driver is looking out his window like I had grown two heads—Ooof."

Tsubaki's shoulder brushed against the passers-by. The young, arrogant businessman took one look at her and sneered. She wasn't quite dressed for an evening out on the town. Beat up sneakers, tattered black jeans, a roughed up black sweatshirt with the hood to hide her pallid skin, and her slouched posture made her look like a street punk or a homeless woman.

"Do you have something to say?" He snipped at her.

"I'm sorry." Tsubaki turned to walk away. She had no time or patience to deal with belligerent men. The young businessman had other ideas; he had his hand latched around her arm. His partners watched with snickering faces and cell phones in hand.

"I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that. Could you say that again?"

"I said I'm sorry. I'll pay attention to where I'm going next time." She tried to pull away but he tightened his hold her arm. She couldn't fell any kind of pain, but rather a dull pressure as his vice grip would have bruised any normal woman.

"How do I know you're not a pickpocket?"

"How could I be? My hands have been in my pockets the whole time?" Tsubaki motioned to pouch in which her hands were indeed snugly hid.

The young businessman let go her arm only to snatch up the front of her sweatshirt. "I don't like your attitude, you little street rat." He seethed.

"I don't like arrogant men grabbing me in the middle of the street. I apologized, now could you please let me go. I'd like to go home."

"Just let it go already, Tsubasa. She's not worth it." One of the businessman's partners decided to finally say something.

"Just let me get a look at the little pickpocket so I know what to tell the police."

The man named Tsubasa suddenly reached for her hood and pulled it down. He just as quickly let her go.

"Geez, you look like the walking dead." Tsubasa sped back towards his friends.

Tsubaki pulled her hood back over her head.

"Are you alright?" A much gentler, kinder voice asked from behind.

Tsubaki slowly turned. A high school student was looking at her with the strangest pair of green eyes. He wore a magenta school uniform and his very aura screamed 'do-gooder' to her. He looked remarkably clean cut for a teenager.

But it wasn't those traits that caused her to stare. No. It was his hair. A crimson shade that reminded her too much of _him_. If her heart could still beat, it would be pounding in her chest. Why did this boy have to look like _him_? She felt her skin crawl, or she thought she felt her skin do that.

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking." Tsubaki cast her eyes down in hopes to avoid further conversations with the young man.

"Can I call you a taxi?"

"Thanks but no thanks I can walk home myself."

* * *

Tsubaki plopped down face first into her mattress. One would think that finding prey among the drunken hordes of club goers and late-night party crashers would be easier, but it wasn't. It was difficult to separate them from their groups and you were never without the possibility of getting caught by another drunkard stumbling onto the scene. She also had to be careful of their blood-alcohol levels. She couldn't take too much or else she'd kill them.

Her stomach was churning and the barely visible pulse was making her head throb. Tsubaki felt nauseous. Drinking from too many alcoholics poised another problem. The effects of alcohol were only effective on her if it's in the blood.

"Tsubaki," the bedroom door creaked open. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Izanami. I had too much blood that contained alcohol."

"You know you shouldn't do that. You know very well how it affects you."

"Thank you for your concern, but it'll pass. Could you please leave? I need some sleep."

"Of course, sleep well. I'll see you at sunrise then?"

Tsubaki mumbled something but it was so incoherent that the familiar Izanami couldn't make it out. Tsubaki drifted slowly off to sleep, still tasting bitter hops on her lips from beer-infused blood. Licking her lips, she was thirsty again. Alas, her arms and legs were too tired and too wasted to move her to the kitchen and grab a midnight snack of a prepared blood-bag stolen from a hospital only a couple of days ago.

Dim yellow light managed to force its way between the heavy planks of wood used to cover the windows. Tsubaki hissed and retreated to the furthest spot on her bed where the evil sunshine couldn't reach her. It wasn't that the sunlight could kill her. It just that the light burned her eyes with so much alcohol still in her system. It would take hours before it left; part of the curse of vampirism is that whatever you ate or drink, with or without blood, would take twice as long, you know, from being dead and all. Despite this annoying but minor disturbance, Tsubaki felt her eyes close and the last of her near-dead heart beats thrum in her ears, taking her off into a deep slumber.

 _Le sang est la vie_.

 _Le sang est la vie._

 _Le sang est la vie._

His _voice was ringing clearly, loudly. Her head was throbbing. Tsubaki could see a face hovering just above hers and the shadowy figure of a man standing away from the scene. She could barely see him past the man's shoulder. Hands were pinning her to the cold, frozen ground. Something warm was running down her neck. Her lips felt hot as something wet dribbled down them and down her chin._

 _Le sang est la vie._

 _The voice kept chanting. What did_ it _mean?_

 _A burning fire erupted in her throat. Tsubaki raised her hand to her neck but they were pinned above her head._

A pounding startled her awake. Tsubaki sprung up in bed. If she was still alive, her skin would be covered in cold sweat. She threw the covers off and clambered, irritated, towards the front door. She didn't even bother trying to fix herself to look presentable, but she did manage to take a look at the clock in her living room. It was three in the afternoon, much too early to drag a vampire out of bed.

The people at the door were not going to be receiving a warm welcome. Tsubaki thrust open the door, startling the poor people behind it. They stared at her for a moment, then slowly but surely they regained their confidence.

"H-hello," the man wore a dull gray business suit, well-pressed, however it had been out of style for no more than five years. He held a paper pad in his hand a pencil in his breast pocket. "I'm with the _Tokyo Authorship_ paper, I was wondering if I could speak to a Miss," the man flipped through the pad in his hand, "I'm looking for Nanami Kurosawa. Do you live here?"

"Yes."

"Is she home?"

"No."

"Do you know when she'll be back?"

"No."

The man's brows furrowed. "And what is your relation to Miss Kurosawa?"

"I'm her daughter." This surprised him.

"I was under the impression the Miss Kurosawa was not married."

"She is. That is to say, she is not married."

"Then you are _adopted_?" He was either bad at guessing or just didn't want to imply that a famous female author had a child outside the bounds of holy matrimony, if such a woman by the name of Nanami Kurosawa actually existed. Only Tsubaki knew better.

"Something like that. I don't care if you're a reporter asking for my mother, I'm tired and I don't know when she'll be back. Come back another time." The door was promptly slammed in his face. Tsubaki used her sensitive ears to make sure the man walked off the property before going back to bed.

* * *

"How are you feeling today, Mother?"

Shiori took a long whiff of the flowers her son brought her.

"You should stop sending me so many. It's starting to look like a flower shop in here." She made him chuckle along with her, something that hadn't happened since she became sick.

"I'm just trying to make your stay more pleasant. Do you need your pillow fluffed or something from the nurse?" He started to rise out of his chair. Shiori patted his hand and he just as quickly sat down.

"There's no need to fuss. I'm very comfortable. Thank you for asking. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You're not too bored are you?"

"I do perfectly alright, Shuichi. I have plenty of company with my books." She patted the cover on the novel in her lap.

"Is it any good?"

Immediately, Shiori's face brightened. "Nanami Kurosawa creates such wonderful characters. This must be the second time I've read this particular book, but only because I'm curious how she can write such intriguing mysteries."

Kurama took the book from his mother's lap. " _The Corpse Danced at Midnight_?" He read before handing it back to her. "It sounds a little morbid for your tastes."

"Well, it's a murder mystery novel. It supposed to be morbid. Besides, it's not the title that I was attracted to. Ms. Kurosawa writes such wonderful stories. I was a little apprehensive at first about joining her fan club, what with her books being so scary and _morbid_ , as you call it, and all. However, once you starting reading, you find that you can't put it down. It's almost addicting."

"Who brought it to you?"

"Oh, just a friend from work. I mentioned to him that I enjoyed Kurosawa's books. He was nice enough to bring me a few copies while I'm in the hospital."

A look of worried strain stretched across Kurama's face.

"I could have done that for you."

"Hush," she managed to lean forward and kiss him on the cheek. "I didn't want you to worry too much and you have school. How are your studies, while I'm on the subject?"

"They're doing very well, Mother."

"That's so good to hear." She glanced at the clock in the hall. "Maybe you should leave soon. You must be hungry. You should get something to eat."

Kurama rose, kissing his mother's forehead. "Only because you asked. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Be safe."

He left the hospital room quietly. Putting up a fake facade until he left, once he was outside the clean confines of the hospital, it was only then did he let he guard down. He saw it. He saw the drawn out look on her face. The paleness of her flesh, the frailty in her arms, the strained way she spoke like there was barely a fiber of strength was left in her. The disease was getting to her, and the battle was nearly won.

But not if he had anything to say about it.

A disgruntled businessman in a gray suit was yelling at his phone not far from Kurama. He was distressed, to say the least. Passers-by avoided him. Kurama moved slightly to the left to avoid him, but it was of no use. The businessman was so distracted that he barely noticed what happened. After the man had vanished around a corner, Kurama noticed something white on the ground. He bent over to pick up: a well-worn notebook. He looked but the businessman was already well out of sight and the possibility of finding him now were slim to none. Flipping it open to find some kind of name or address he could return it to, Kurama found that the first few pages contained nothing but quickly-jotted down scribbles. They seemed to be vaguely important as the author ran the pen heavily through the paper. A name stood out above the rest: _Nanami Kurosawa._ The author. The businessman must have been some kind of reporter or publishing agent. Kurama read further on, and found the elusive author's address.

He remembered how his human mother's face lit up when she spoke about Kurosawa's books. Just imagine the look on her face when the author came to greet her in person.

* * *

"I don't care what it takes, you're going to find the weasel who gave out my personal information," Tsubaki shouted at her agent, Minori.

"I'm doing the best I can, ma'am. There's a number of people who have access to that information. It may take a while." Minori replied sheepishly.

Tsubaki's grip on her table tightened, splintering the wood beneath her fingers.

"Minori," she hissed. "I agreed to publish the number of books in my contract if and only if my privacy was never invaded. I agreed, and unless you want a civil law suit against your agency, you're going to find the person who sold my personal information and fire them."

"I'm trying." Minori whined.

"Don't try. Do." Tsubaki angrily pressed the end call button. The phone slammed on the now-broken table. She nearly shattered her cell phone into pieces, but there was a drawer full of them for a quick back up.

The doorbell rang. Tsubaki growled as she stormed towards her front door.

"Whoever it is, my mother's not going to be giving an interview, so you'd better get off our property before I call the police!" She thrust open the door but instead of finding another reporter, a teenage kid was standing on her doorstep. He seemed familiar until it suddenly clicked.

"You." She hissed. Her fangs ached as they slowly ripped through her gums. "How'd you get this address?"

"I ran into a gentleman a little while ago. He dropped his notebook." He presented the item in question to Tsubaki.

She quickly snatched up, flipped it open, and ripped out the sheets of paper that contained her information. The leaflets were crumbled in her tight fist and tossed over her shoulder.

"What can I do you for?" She was impatient, tired, and wanted the boy off her property. If he caused trouble, she always compel him to leave and remove his memory of finding her place.

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"As I told somebody else earlier, my mother is not giving any interviews. I don't care how that reporter came to know where we live, however she enjoy my privacy. Good day." Tsubaki started to close the door on him. His hand shot between the closing gap and stopped her.

"Wait, no. I'm not asking for an interview. I was hoping that you do something else for me." He was persistent. Tsubaki wasn't sure if she liked that.

"What do you want?"

"My mother is sick and she enjoys your mother's books very much. I was wondering if you could get your mother to make one special appearance—"

"How sick is she?"

"She's in the hospital. She's been there for quite some time. It would mean a lot of if your mother could see her. She really enjoys her work."

Tsubaki thought for a moment. She looked deep inside his eyes, trying to find some speck of malice. When she found none, she conceded. She could at least hear him out more. The door was pulled open wider.

"Do you want tea?" Tsubaki headed back inside.

"No, thank you." He was awfully polite for a teenager. He was even gracious enough to close the door behind him.

"I'll just make myself some then." Tsubaki pried open her cabinet door. One cupboard contained nearly every tea known to man. She picked one at random, not caring what it was, and dropped it in somewhat clean mug she plucked from the sick. It had only been sitting there since last night; it was still relatively clean.

A kettle of water was added to the stove, heat turned up. Tsubaki found her guest standing in the middle of the living room despite the fact that her barely used couch and fluffy cushions would have been far more comfortable.

"Take a seat. Make yourself at home." And what a home it was. Tsubaki admitted to herself from time to time that a designer's touch was needed, but what good would that do when you're the only one who lives there? Well, besides her "roommates."

"Thank you." He made his way to the couch and put his school bag on the floor, leaning against the couch leg.

"Are you sure you don't want any tea? Or coffee?"

"No thanks. I don't want to stay longer than is appropriate."

The kettle's whistle went off. Tsubaki quietly prepared her tea in the kitchen.

"And who's this?"

Tsubaki looked and found a black cat wandering in between the couch legs and the boy's. The black cat mewed loudly. Bright yellow eyes stared at her.

 _Who is he?_

"That is Izanami. Her mate should be skulking about somewhere." Tsubaki walked in with her steaming hot cup of tea that smelled like jasmine and lemon and set it on the coffee table before taking a seat of her own. She sat with her back against the arm of the couch so she could face her guest.

"My name's Tsubaki but what do I call you?"

Izanami meow became a painful yowl. Her head brushed against Tsubaki's hand she left to dangle over the edge of the couch.

"Minamino, Shuichi."

"Tell me about your mother, Minamino. Why should I convince my mother to go see her?"

"I think we can get over certain pretenses, Miss Tsubaki."

Tsubaki's ebony brows furrowed.

"Pretenses? Explain please."

Izanami yowled again. She nipped at Tsubaki's hand. Tsubaki had no choice but to swat the cat away.

"I know what you are. You don't have pretend to be something you're not."

 _Get rid of him. NOW!_


	2. Chapter 2

UPDATE: 6/24/2016

* * *

"What?" Tsubaki nervously laughed.

 _Told you so._ Tsubaki swatted at Izanami's head.

"The clues are pretty obvious." He continued.

"They are?"

The boy nodded. "There are graphite smudges on the side of your right hand. You're wearing the same clothes as yesterday. And you have a type writer seating on the table over there."

Tsubaki stopped herself from sighing with relief. "But that could belong to my mother."

"I don't think you have one. Judging by the appearance of your house, you live alone."

"And how can you tell that?" She snipped.

"Well," _Shuichi_ started looking around the room. "There's only one pair of shoes sitting by the door, and they aren't mine. There's no sign of a car, there would be marks where one has been. You don't drive. No keys."

Tsubaki did a quick look around her own home. He had a point, she reluctantly conceded. There was a sense of loneliness infused within the surroundings of the home. Minimalist décor and furniture, singular pair of shoes and only one jacket hanging by the door, dishes were piled in the sink (almost entirely cups and mugs, by the way), and there was barely any use in the couch. All the hallmarks of a single-person household were there.

"I'd be careful. You don't want to inspire me to write you into one of my books."

 _Shuichi_ chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Tsubaki asked, brows furrowed.

"I have to be honest. I made the graphite smudges up. I accidentally heard you on the phone complaining to your agent about your lack of privacy. You have very thin walls. I apologize for intruding."

Tsubaki, to her amazement, chuckled back. She had to admit that he was clever. Only now did she bother to look at her right hand. Not a speck of graphite to be found.

"In all seriousness though, I would like an answer." He paused. "Would you be willing to visit my mother at the hospital?"

Tsubaki bit her lip. With danger receding, her fangs did the same. There was no need to be defensive. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and curled up into a little ball on her end of the couch. Subconsciously, she moved the hood of her sweatshirt down a bit further so that the shadows further engulfed her face.

"I don't know. If I do that, then people will find out and want me to make more appearances. I'm not sure if I can do that."

"We will both be very discreet about the affair. All I ask is one afternoon. It would mean the world to my mother."

Tsubaki continued to chew on her lower lip until she came to find the right words to say. And rather unambiguous ones at that.

"I'll…I'll try to see what I can do."

 _Don't tell me you're actually considering it? You'll blow your cover and there goes your cushy job. You'll have to start all over again. Is that what you want?_

 _Shuichi_ seemed to stare at her. He was trying to figure something out, something about her. She could practically hear the cog wheels turning around and around in the mental gear train in his head. His green eyes were scrutinizing and analyzing every twitch she made, every tiny move, every glance she made towards him. It was like being held under a microscope. Just what was he trying to find?

"Is there something wrong?"

Tsubaki's voice seemed to have broken the spell the young man had fallen under. He blinked twice and apologized.

"I'm sorry and I don't mean to pry, but what did that man say to you the other night after you bumped into him? If it's your appearance that you're worried about, I don't think my mother will care very much for—"

Tsubaki raised her hand to his face.

"Stop. I understand what you're trying to say. It's…it's not that. I haven't cared what people thought of me for a very long time. Although, that doesn't mean that words still don't hurt. That's why I don't like to go outside and meet with my fans. People are inherently cruel, I've learned and if I can't be made to feel comfortable with the way I look, then those who wish to see must suffer because of another's sins." Her head was bowed so low it was almost touching her chest.

"That doesn't sound healthy." He remarked.

"Probably."

Izanami meowed. She butted her head against the couch leg.

"Is there something wrong with your cat?" _Shuichi_ pointed towards it.

"No, she's just very territorial. My cats aren't fond of strangers." Lowering her voice, "And neither do I."

"May I?"

"May you what?"

He didn't even give her an answer. The next thing she knew he was reaching towards her, to pull her hood away. All she could see was his red hair and his hands reaching towards her. He wasn't the same man as before, but her brain wouldn't let it go. It couldn't make her forget _him_ and _his_ red hair.

Tsubaki's senses were sent on edge again. But before she could pull away, her hood fell from her face. Green eyes stared back at her while she looked at him with her lips parted in a silent gasp. He quickly retreated.

"You've seen battlefields, haven't you?" He pointed to his cheek and the corner of his mouth, mirroring the places where Tsubaki had her own scars.

Her pale, skinny fingers touched her face. The scars were made to make her unattractive, as if she needed them to do that. It was _his_ intention, and he succeeded with flying colors.

"What's your point?"

"Forgive me for being too forward, but if you're worried about your appearance, I don't think you have much to worry about."

Tsubaki tugged the hood back over her head and quickly turned her face away from him. _Shuichi_ sighed. He rose.

"I apologize. That was too forward of me. I hope that has not made up your mind. Please consider my inquest. My mother really would enjoy meeting you, Miss Kurosawa. I'll let myself out."

Tsubaki heard his quiet steps lead towards the front door. The door opened and shut behind him. She curled up further, unable to process what just happened.

"I tried to warn you. Now look at what you've done! You didn't even bother erasing his memory. Just what were you thinking?"

Tsubaki turned her head towards the black cat chiding her. "Familiars should be seen, not heard, Izanami."

"Master is right." In walked in a familiar white cat, pun not intended. "She can make her own decisions."

"'Master, Master!' Do you have any idea how much of a sycophant you sound like, Izanagi?" Izanami pawed at the white cat's face.

Izanagi easily dodged her attack. "Well, we are her familiars. It is appropriate to call her by that name in honor of that contract."

"You don't have to sound so subservient." Izanami continued to chide.

"Show some respect for the master."

The familiars went back and forth, bickering like an old married couple and grating on Tsubaki's few good nerves. She ground her sharp teeth into her gums until she could taste the copper of her cold blood. Izanami and Izanagi's spats could last for hours if she let them. The hangover she was trying to sleep off had been completely forgotten until now. Her head felt swollen and stomach tragically empty. A moment longer and she wouldn't think twice about feeding off her familiars. The familiars were down each other's throats, yowling like beasts in heat.

"Will you both be quiet!" Tsubaki finally snapped. "I'm going back to bed and I better not hear another word from either one of you!"

"Sorry," Izanami apologized.

Tsubaki grunted in reply and marched back to her bedroom. The door was slammed shut behind her, ringing her ears. She plopped down face first into the bed, pulled the thin covers over her, and cuddled with one of her pillows. She closed her eyes and tried to silence the screaming going off inside her head. Her eyes eventually drifted closed. Once again, she dreamed of that man, digging his unforgiving, merciless fangs into her neck and the white-hot blood that she was forced to allow it to burn all the down her throat. The haunting taste of copper and death still tinged on the tip of her tongue when she remembered that cold day in February, whether she wanted to remember or not.

It was all because of that boy, the one with red hair. He made her remember that man. It was his fault for forcing upon her that twisted nightmare. Him and his red hair, so much like…

Tsubaki woke up to darkness, just as that day. Without switching on the light, she grabbed random clothes from her dresser and carried the bundle into the bathroom where it was deposited into the empty sink. Stripping down to nothing, Tsubaki climbed into the shower. It didn't matter which setting she turned for the temperature. Her flesh lost all sensations of hot and cold many years ago. She scrubbed her scalp and body clean. The sponge should be replaced soon, she noted as she looked at the somewhat ragged form of the burgundy mesh mess in her hands as she lathered up and rinsed. Her nose was filled with wild roses and cherry blossoms; her tension eased. When done, she turned off the water, wrapped herself in the black towel hanging on the wall next to the shower, and pulled open the drawer containing her hair dryer. Setting the heat all the up, her hair was mostly dry within fifteen minutes or less. She dressed, unplugged the dryer, and exited the bathroom with dirty clothes bunched up in the crook of her arm. These were dumped inside the hamper for laundry day.

Alone, Tsubaki tore off the sheet covered one of the few mirrors she kept inside the house. Vampires did have reflections, she just didn't like to look at herself in the mirror. She hated what she saw. A young girl, cut down and stuck in a permanent state of youth, not nearly as glamourous as the books and movies made it out to be. She took it out on her characters, of course. Making her heroines as deformed and mutilated as possible to give herself the closure that would never come, not as long as she carried that boulder of a burden on her shoulder.

Some of her clothes only emphasized her small frame. She was small from head to toe. Dainty feet and hands, petite waist, small breasts, thin arms and legs, and a scarred neck in which two small puncture wounds glared at her as they reminded her of what she used to be and what she was now. Two red holes in her throat to go with the ugly knife wounds on her cheek and the one on the right hand side corner of her mouth. Her skin was milky white, almost translucent. Except for her scars, her skin was nearly flawless. Small, almond-shaped eyes, two pools of dead murky gray-green water, also stared back at her. Now dry, her black hair rested on her shoulders, the ends reaching the top of breasts. Tsubaki must have been a masochist because she stared at her painfully malnourished body for a long enough time before her familiars walked in, curious about her well-being.

"Are you alright, Tsubaki?" Izanami asked, gently rubbing her head against Tsubaki's ankle.

"Perhaps Izanami was right? Maybe you should have erased the boy's memory." Izanagi groaned as he admitted defeat.

While Izanami snickered, Tsubaki swallowed hard.

"No." She said suddenly.

"No?" The familiars wonder out loud in unison.

"I don't think I should have. Not yet anyway."

"Are you developing an interest in the boy?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Izanami!" Tsubaki threw the cover back over the mirror. "Even if that were true, it would never work. He just got me thinking."

"About what?" Izanami hopped onto the bed, Izanagi followed suit.

Tsubaki ran her hand through her hair, still a little damp from her shower. She shoved her hands into her pockets and started pacing along the length of the room. A bed, a dresser, and a bare bedside table were all that decorated the room. That is, of course, unless you didn't count the countless number of papers littering the floor and taped or tacked onto the walls, florid characters written all along the papers. It was a sign of an eccentric genius or a madman. Tsubaki tended to go for both.

"He is human, or as far as I can currently and will be until proven otherwise. Yet, I find it odd that he ran into me twice in a twenty-four hour period and he just so happened to run into the reporter who was trying to get an interview. Don't you think that smells like trouble?" She finally rested her hands on her hips, being unable to figure out what to do with her hands. Anxiety was building up. The pieces were starting to come together one at a time.

"That is a bit strange." Izanami nodded.

"Too much of a coincidence." Agreed Izanagi.

"But what do you think he's planning?" Izanami asked, swishing her tail anxiously against the bed.

"I don't know yet, but I will find out." Tsubaki picked out a pair of socks from her dresser and put them on. "I'll track him tonight, see where he goes. Within a couple of weeks, I should know what he's up to. If he's no good, I'll finish him myself. If not, I'll leave him be."

"'Leave him be?'" Izanagi leapt from the bed and stood at Tsubaki's feet as she put on a pair of worn black leather boots. "Do you mean that you won't erase his memories?"

Tsubaki shrugged.

"I'm not sure at this point. I'll let you know for certain if I do."

"But don't you think that's dangerous?"

"Probably, but I feel that he isn't the kind to snitch. I _might_ let him live with that kind of information. I haven't decided yet."

"Do you need to drink something before you go, Tsubaki?" Izanami joined Izanagi and they both followed Tsubaki back into the living room.

"I'm not quite as thirsty as I thought I was. I'll probably have something from the fridge upon my return. It should be a quiet night, it being a Sunday and all. Can't have too much going on." She grabbed her keys and headed for the door. She grabbed a scarf and a jacket hanging near the door. Putting on the black jacket first, Tsubaki wrapped the deep burgundy scarf artfully around her neck and covered most of her scalp loosely with the soft fabric.

"Please be careful, Master! If you're in trouble, please don't hesitate to call on us!" Izanagi called from the living as Tsubaki started to close the front door shut.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be perfectly fine on my own. You just mind the fort while I'm gone." Tsubaki called back before shutting and locking the door up tight.

The night time sky greeted her and the city air filled her senses with the scents of people crammed together, of cars, and rubbish. Tsubaki followed the one scent through the city. When she finally reached the end of her trail, Tsubaki found herself in a place she had not expected. She stood outside a charming little suburban home. A yellow light in only one of the windows. By chance, Shuichi had peeked his head out of the window for who knows what kind of season. He saw her even in the growing darkness, a distant street lamp and the silver moon to see her face. The window was shut and the curtain closed. Tsubaki waited for about five more minutes until another light in the house switched on. The young man opened the door and stood there like he expected her to approach. Against her better judgement, Tsubaki went to the front door.

"Kurosawa-san, what is it that you're doing here?" He asked.

Tsubaki shrugged.

"I needed to go for a walk. I didn't even know this was where you lived. I suppose I should get going." She turned to leave, but he called after her.

"Would you like to come in? It's chilly out tonight, isn't it?"

"The cold never bothered me."

"Come in," He insisted with a light chuckle. "I'll make you something to warm you up."

He shouldn't have said that. Tsubaki was now able to enter his house with ease. The fool.

"Aren't you polite?" Tsubaki laughed to herself.

"How do you know that I'm not trying to persuade you to visit my mother?" She heard him say as she kicked off her shoes as he wandered off into the kitchen.

"I didn't get that vibe from you."

Tsubaki found a normal house with all the dressings of a middle-class family. The boy's uniform was from one of the better schools in the area. No way were they poor, at least not until the medical bills came in.

"We're out of tea but would you like some coffee."

She licked her lips. Her throat felt suddenly dry. A peculiar scent tickled her nose. Something...earthy but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"That's fine." She edged towards the kitchen.

That deep seated hunger grew in her belly. She should've has something to eat before leaving the house. And here was an unsuspecting meal, one foolish enough to let her inside. They were all alone.

Like a shadow, Tsubaki crept upon while he was busy starting the coffee pot. She moved slowly, silently. Her movements were beyond human senses. He wouldn't expect a thing. Her fangs ripped through her gums, thin daggers waiting for their feast. Her mouth was watering at the sight of his virgin-white throat, not yet contaminated by her monstrous bite. She could hear his blood pumping just beneath the fragile layer of flesh. His heartbeat was so steady that it felt like she was hunting in slow motion. He had not turned his back away from her yet. She still had the advantage. Just as long as he didn't turn.

"How do you take your coffee?" He asked.

"Black."

Her voice right behind him startled Shuichi. He jumped and spun around. Tsubaki made her fangs to recede and pushed back the monster of hungry clawing at the inside of her throat.

"I'm sorry." She said nonchalantly.

"You startled me, that's all." He laughed, clutching his chest.

"I get that a lot."

"Considering your subject matter, that should be a compliment." Shuichi went back to preparing the coffee.

Tsubaki stood back and stared at the back of his head until he finished pouring her a mug full of the dark brew and had turned to give it to her. She sipped at it quietly and leaned against the fridge. Shuichi poured himself a mug of his own. He added cream and sugar before he turned towards her and leaned against the kitchen sink across from her.

Silence.

It was so quiet she could hear his heartbeat perfectly. Its pace increased because of the caffeine, but there was nothing to be worried for.

"May I ask you a question?" Shuichi finally broke the silence.

"You just did." Tsubaki darkly chuckled. "But I suppose you may ask another."

He paused before speaking again. "Why do you despise company so much? You seem on edge."

 _Probably because I intend to kill you if you prove dangerous to my survival._

"No particular reason, none that are any of your business anyway." She sipped her coffee. It had little effect on her.

"Do you have any parents?"

Tsubaki hated the innocent look in his eyes. She hated that he was trying to become her friend. She hated him. Looking at his hair, she wanted to burn it. Leave his corpse on the kitchen floor drained of blood. Behind the veil of her lips, she struggled to keep her fangs under control. The hunger was creeping up on her again. She knew she should have had at a blood packet before she left. But no. She wanted to get started. She wanted to know what this boy was up to. And she started with an empty body needing blood for its nutrition? Now stood before her a perfect meal right in front of her. What was she waiting for? For him to bare his throat to her?

"My parents," she scowled at the memory, "died a very long time ago. Don't press the issue or bring them up again."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Tsubaki had been staring at the dark contents in her mug. Her head snapped up. He jolted like he had seen something.

"Don't bring them up again. Ever." She forced the command into his brain.

"Yes." He was under her hypnosis now. He was unaware of what he was saying or doing.

Tsubaki set the mug down on a near-by counter. She looked at Shuichi. He was trying to fight the spell. He was more aware than she anticipated. If she didn't end this soon, she would regret it later. A twisting, clawing, gnawing tangle of emotions were threatening to break loose. She could no longer restrain herself, fight back her fangs and the hunger deep inside. Her tongue darted out slowly from between her lips. Shuichi's gaze followed its trail.

"Look at my eyes." Tsubaki commanded.

His gaze returned to hers, obediently. He hadn't hesitated. She could have gloated if she wanted to. Tsubaki, instead, rested her hand against the side of his neck, brushing aside some of his hair. Unwittingly, she started to play with the long locks, noting the smoothness, the texture, and the hideous red color that kept reminding her of that _man_ from so long ago. Her fangs were fully extended. She moved her hand ever so slightly so that her fingers rested on his vulnerable pulse, protected only by a rather thin layer of mortal flesh that would put up no resistance for her sharpened fangs. The hunger burned so hot inside of her, Tsubaki wanted to either drive her fangs home and quench the fires or explode in a blood-rage. Then there would be no mercy for anyone within a long distance.

"Don't resist." She whispered.

Shuichi opened his mouth to reply, but she pressed her thin finger against his lips. Tsubaki pressed her body on top of his, reveling in the warmth and the herbal scent coming off of him. She paused for a moment to smell him. Her nose was pressed firmly against his jugular and she made sure she got a good whiff of him, as if preserving his smell deep inside her memory. The softness of her tiny breasts met with the firmness of Shuichi's chest. His arms hung uselessly at his sides; his eyes were glued forward. Tsubaki put her hand at the back of his head and her fingers curled around the soft strands of his hair. With her other hand, she pulled back the collar of his shirt a bit. Her tongue laved at vulnerable pulse point just beneath the surface. His heartbeat had been stunned to beat a steady rhythm. Tsubaki's senses were going to turn on her if she didn't sate the blood lust burning her throat and tearing out her guts.

Slowly, she pressed her lips against his throat in a soft but meaningless, passionless kiss. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a refraction of light. She pried her eye open a little wider.

The heat and the hunger sizzled into non-existence. Her fangs retreated without her permission. Now, she stood there light-headed from lack of food. Tsubaki turned, still holding onto her would-be-victim, to face the family portrait hanging near the kitchen. A woman with dark hair was smiling back her, oblivious to what Tsubaki was about to do


	3. Chapter 3

UPDATE: 6/24/2016

* * *

Her fangs retreated. The burning fire was drowned by the disgust building inside her gut. The woman in the photo was holding onto a red-haired child, both smiling. It sickened her. Tsubaki suddenly hated herself. She hated herself, what she had become.

Tsubaki pushed herself away from _Shuichi_ , causing him to fall hard against the sink. She grabbed her coffee mug and threw the contents down the drain, leaving the mug in the sink. She looked into his eyes. The hazy film covering his green eyes was still there.

"You will forget that I was ever here. As soon as I leave, you'll think that you left the door unlocked by accident. You'll lock it and return to whatever it was you were doing before. Do you understand?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"Good." Tsubaki spat.

She hurried to the front door and ran out, slamming it shut behind her. She didn't wait to see if he obeyed her. Tsubaki ran like a bat out of hell. She ran until she was half way across town. When she finally stopped, Tsubaki found herself in an empty dark alley. In her fury, she punched the rusted dumpster until her fists left too many imprints in the steel. The whole time she ranted and raved. It was the middle of the night but there was hardly any to actually hear her except the drunkards.

"How hard could it have been?" She rammed her foot into the side of the dumpster, adding yet another crater. "All I had to do was bite him! It shouldn't…have been…so….difficult!" Tsubaki took out all of her rage on the dumpster, the trash, and the brick walls surrounding her. Her fury, untamed, could be heard from the fiery, burning rings of hell she cursed on about. When she tired of abusing the inanimate objects around her, her hands flew into her hair, ringing her long dark locks and clawing at her scalp.

Her hand rammed into the wall. Brick, mortar, and dust scattered. Beaten bloody, her knuckles were scraped and broken. It took less than a few short seconds before they were healed again.

"What did the trash or that wall ever do to deserve your fury?"

Tsubaki stopped. She turned. She scowled.

"Who are you?" Tsubaki was looking at a shady pair of 'gentlemen,' an ogre and an imp, well a man the size of an imp. He certainly was short enough.

"Hiei," he answered shortly, "And my partner is Gouki."

"I don't judge." Tsubaki sighed.

Hiei's brows furrowed. "I beg your pardon?"

"You said he was your _partner_ ," Tsubaki used air quotes. "I can only assume that you meant—"

"Tch."

If she was human, she wouldn't have been able to see Hiei reach for his sword and unsheathe it. The blade glowed in the near darkness like a fang against the light of the full moon. He was a fast imp. She moved just in time to avoid being skewered and nailed to the wall behind her.

"You're fast." She noted out loud.

"So are you. If you were human, I would have killed you." He put his sword back in its place.

"Indeed."

"You know who we are now. So let me tell you who are."

Tsubaki couldn't suppress the incredulous chuckle bubbling from her throat. "Oh really? You know who I am. I'd _love_ to know how you came across that information."

"You are Tsubaki of the Shadows. Your reputation proceeds you."

She stared down at him. Pressure was building in her gums and she was hit by another surge of hunger. Her mouth went dry.

 _Great!_ Now _I'm hungry?_

These two, however, she could drink from without feeling sorry. Although, it would be the first time she had drank demons' blood. Couldn't hurt to try, right?

"My reputation? What reputation?" Her arms were folded over her chest. It was the only thing she could do to keep herself from reaching forward and grabbing the imp by the throat and ripping open his carotid arteries.

"In 1868, you helped slaughter one-hundred humans during the Battle of Aizu. Earlier that year, you single handedly ended the Battle of Hokuetsu by killing the daimyo when he refused to submit to the imperial armies. In 1877, you ended the Satsuma Rebellion. In 1879, you—"

"ENOUGH!" Tsubaki yelled at the top of her lungs. "If I wanted to reminisce about the bloodshed I committed in my youth, I'd go find my old 'war buddies.' What do you want?"

Hiei frowned. "First, I'm curious why a demon would stick around the human for so long. Seems you went through a lot of trouble humans, and foreigners."

He blinked and her hand was wrapped around his throat. She bruised his back and the back of his skull on the wall she made a crater in earlier.

"I didn't cause all of that _trouble_ because I wanted to. Someone forced my hand. I was doing it against my will, so don't you ever think that I enjoyed it!" Tsubaki threw him against the side of the dumpster.

Like he barely felt a thing, Hiei raised himself to his feet and brushed the dust off of his tunic. "Whoever this other demon was, he must have pulled your hand very hard."

Her eyes were burning, on the brink of tears but she would be too cursed already to be damned enough to let him see them. She steadied herself and took a deep breath out of force of habit.

"If you don't have something important to say to me, leave. I'm hungry. I need something to eat. And right now, you and your partner are looking pretty tasty." Tsubaki seethed, folding her arms across her chest again.

"I have a _business proposition_ for you."

"Business proposition? For me? You're out of your mind. You have nothing you could offer me."

"There's nothing you want?"

Tsubaki let her guard down, just a little. Bloody tears were yearning to escape. He knew how to cut her deep without even meaning to. "Nothing that you could give me. What I wanted most in the world slipped through my grasp years ago. And I've accepted that I will never get an opportunity to get it back."

Hiei's scowl deepened.

"Your loss." He turned to leave. "But I don't suppose you've seen a fox demon by the name of Kurama, have you?"

Tsubaki's face scrunched up. She scratched her head. If she had seen a fox demon, she would have remembered. Demons had retreated back into the Makai shortly after the Meiji Restoration, if she remembered correctly. Now, there were a few scatterings dotting the country but nothing to take seriously. She hadn't seen a fox demon in…how many years? Fifty at least. The years started to blur together.

"I can't say that I have. Why?"

Hiei clutched his sword tighter until his knuckles turned white. He and his comrade returned to the shadows the came from. Their scent vanished into thin air. Even if she wanted to, Tsubaki wouldn't have been able to chase after them. Whatever it was that they wanted her to take part in, it couldn't have been anything decent. She wasn't the vampire that _Hiei_ was describing. Not anymore.

Tsubaki ran her tongue over her fangs. Her gums were burning hot and sore. Her throat was hoarse and dry. At least she no longer felt like crying. She took a look at the damage she had done to the alley and heard the sound of people closing in, hurried. Tsubaki pulled up her hood and hid behind a pile of discarded boxes. She listened for the voices to approach. Her meal was taking too long. Didn't they know she needed to eat?

"Haruka-san, do you copy?

 _Finally._ Tsubaki poked her head carefully out from her heading space. A young handsome police officer was busy talking into his radio.

"Yeah, I hear ya rookie. What's the matter?" The walkie-talkie replied.

"I got a call on a disturbance. It doesn't look like anybody's here though."

"What does it look like?"

Tsubaki ducked her head back into her hiding place just as a flash light nearly touched her.

"Looks like some punks took their frustrations out on some dumpster. And a brick wall. How'd that happened, I don't know."

"Well hurry up and note the damage. We'll fill out a report and send it to the building's owner tomorrow morning. It's the end of our shift and I want to go home." The man whined.

"Sure thing." The young officer replied.

Footsteps quietly approached. Tsubaki slunk deeper into the shadows, and waited for the perfect moment to strike. The officer had his back turned towards her. He inspected the portion of wall Tsubaki's tiny little hand managed to break apart in an episode of uncontrolled emotions. She took one step at a time towards him. But before she could enjoy her meal, the officer's means of communication had to be silenced.

Tsubaki reached for the walkie-talkie. Her pale thumb turned the red plastic nob all the way down so that the receiver on the other end couldn't hear a thing. She hadn't moved as subtly as she thought. The younger officer jumped at seeing her ghostly hand at his shoulder just barely in the line of his peripheral vision. Tsubaki clapped her hand across his mouth before he could call for help. She seized his other hand just as it reached for the gun at his hip while his own hand wrapped around her wrist. In vain did he try to remove her hand from his mouth, but he was still merely human; she was inhuman.

"Shhh, shhhhh," Tsubaki whispered in his ear. "I'm not going to kill you unless you decide to resist me. All I want is some food."

She slowly released her hand from him.

"I don't have any money!"

Tsubaki flipped him around like he was nothing more than a rag doll. Her hands clamped around his shoulders. His blood was pumping so hard. She licked in her in anticipation.

"I don't want your money." Her voice was on the brink of trembling. She needed to drink!

"T-Then what do you want?" The young man caught under her steel grip was started to hyperventilate. He might faint.

Tsubaki leaned close. She breathed on his neck, making him shiver. She kissed his earlobe before whispering. "Do you know what a vampire is?"

He was stunned by her question. Tsubaki took this opportunity to sink her teeth in.

She took several big gulps before forcing herself away. She would keep to her word. She wasn't going to kill him. But, Tsubaki did not envy the headache he would have when he came to. The wound was cleaned up. The walkie-talkie's volume was reset. She whispered a command for him to forget what happened and replaced the memories of her with a couple of street punks who ganged up on him and struck him on the back of his head.

She wasn't quite as satisfied as she hoped she would be, but she started home early anyway.

The first question that came out of Izanami's mouth was: "Did you find him?"

"Yes." Tsubaki was almost hesitant to ask.

"And?"

"I didn't bite him."

The familiars looked at each other, worried and confused.

"Forgive me, Master, but you didn't bite him?"

"I thought that was the whole reason why you went out. To see what he knows. To find out what he was after. Why did you not discover the truth?"

"I tried. I honestly tried. But my hunger nearly got the better of me. Seeing his red hair…I couldn't stop thinking about _him_."

"Your hunger _prevented_ you from biting him?" Izanagi only more concerned for his master. Tsubaki never acted like this before.

"No. It wasn't my hunger. It was that picture of the boy's mother that kept staring at me. I couldn't bring myself to nearly kill a sick woman's child. I couldn't do it. The best I could do was to erase his memory of his inside his house. Bad news is, I can come and go as I please. It's too tempting."

"Just kill him, then, and be done with it!" Izanami interjected. "You have no reason to keep such a threat around."

Tsubaki slowly shook her head. "No. No. No. I can't."

"Master?"

Tsubaki wrapped her arms around herself and started for her bedroom.

"I need…I need to be alone. Don't bother me." And the bedroom door was slammed shut.

Tsubaki cast herself into a cell of darkness, surrounded by impenetrable shadows. She sat in the corner of her room; her face buried in her knees and arms wrapped around her legs as if to cradle herself off to sleep. Her artificial shadows were the only things that kept her company as the bloody tears flowed like the face of a miraculous statue. She sat there throughout the night and through most of the day.

"Master," Izanagi whispered. He managed to break through her shadow-filled barrier without being repelled by the choking atmosphere.

"I said not to bother me."

"Forgive me, but I just thought that you ought to know that whatever you decide, Izanami and I will be there to support you, no matter what you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tsubaki growled.

"I mean this in the _least_ insulting way as possible, but perhaps it may be good for you to get out of the house once in a while. See the boy's mother. See what the outside world is like for an evening."

"There is nothing out there for me."

"Master, please understand that I say it for the greater good. I do care about you, more than a familiar should normally. I consider you a friend as well. Don't take it personally. Excuse me." The white cat escaped out of sight.

Tsubaki was once left alone with her thoughts, only now they were invaded by her familiar's shockingly wise words. Would it really hurt her to go out for an evening and not trying to drink people? Would it be that bad? It would still be hours before her shadows finally ebbed away. She left her bedroom for a snack. A blood pack was waiting for her in the fridge and a straw in the drawer. Neither one of her familiars said anything but they watched her with careful and concerned eyes. Tsubaki took her snack back to her room. The blood pack was punctured with the straw with such force that some of its contents oozed out of the tiny hole in the plastic. Tsubaki noticed this and licked the front of the bag where she had punctured it with the straw. Waste not, want not. The blood was cold, but better than nothing at all. She had no desire to go out into the night and hunt for her food. As cold and tasteless as it was, the blood pack substitute would have to satisfy the need but not the taste buds. She sat in the corner again, thinking. She must have sat there for hours more and never wearing a watch or owning a clock in her bedroom Tsubaki didn't even know the time. However, by the time she finished her snack and threw the remains in the trash the irresistible urge to go outside was poking at her like an impatient child in her ribs. She looked at her covered windows in bedroom. Sighing, she want to her bathroom.

In the mirror, her reflection was that of a horror story scene. Her face was smeared and streaked with blood from her tears; her pallid skin made the bright red even more gruesome to look at. Tsubaki grabbed a washcloth, turned up the water, and scrubbed her cheeks until the blood had been washed away and swam down the drain. She tried her best to fix her hair. Giving up, she pulled the hood over her head and started for the front door.

"Master, where are you going?" Izanami asked from the living.

"Out." Tsubaki answered curtly.

"Be safe."

Tsubaki already knew where she was going. It didn't surprise her that when her feet finally stopped, she was staring at the hospital. His scent was close by. This had to be the one. Tsubaki took a deep breath, for psychological purposes only, and walked towards the front entrance, briskly. She followed his scent all the way up to the third floor, usually reserved for patients in _hospice_ _care._ A small sliver of pity creeped its way inside of Tsubaki's consciousness. Over a hundred and fifty years gave her enough time to realize that there were three things that were absolutely certain: death, taxes, and disease. Tsubaki's curse turned into a blessing in that human diseases would never touch her.

"Psst, Tsubaki-chan!" A low voice whispered.

Tsubaki turned her head.

"Kazuo. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you had a shift tonight."

The young man blushed. Tsubaki knew the twenty-year-old nurse had a crush on her, but she didn't have the heart to break his just yet.

"Listen, if you need a fix, I'm afraid I can't hel-"

Tsubaki pressed her finger against his lips. "I'm not here for that. I'm here for something else."

"You're not going to..."

She shook her head, almost insulted that he was implying she would drink from the sick and the dying. "No, no. Not that. Can you tell me where I might find a patient? I don't know her first name but her surname is _Minamino_. She has a son in high school, if that helps."

Kazuo flipped through some charts on his clipboard. He scanned through the paper work for a minute or two before lifting up his eyes again to meet with Tsubaki's.

"She should be just down the hall there," he pointed. "Three door on the left."

"Thank you."

"Say, Tsubaki-chan, are you free this Saturday? I have the evening off the night. Maybe we could go see a movie and have some dinner? Maybe?"

"We'll see." Tsubaki doubted she would keep her word. It was a game between them now. The nurse just didn't know when to take a hint. Perhaps she could at least humor him? Oh well. Tsubaki had more pressing matters to attend to.

The third door on the left was closed shut. Tsubaki could still here _Shuichi_ and his mother talking. A pleasant conversation. She lifted up her hand and knocked. They immediately stopped talking. He must have gotten up to answer the door, though he was hesitant. Was he hoping it was a doctor to check on his mother's status or to deliver bad news? His face almost lit up when he found Tsubaki standing outside the door.

"What are you doing here?"

Tsubaki shrugged her shoulders and appeared as aloof as possible.

"I had a change of heart."

This made Shuichi chuckle. He pushed open the door wider to allow Tsubaki's entrance.

"Please, come in. Mother, I have someone you should meet."

"Who?"

Tsubaki found Mrs. Minamino in a state. She was hooked up to various machines to monitor her heart rate and blood pressure. The woman could barely sit up straight in her bed. Her face was almost as pale as Tsubaki's with only the slightest tint of color in the cheeks to separate them.

Tsubaki felt Shuichi's hand at her back, guiding her towards the sick bed.

"Are you a friend of Shuichi's?"

"No, ma'am, but I heard that you were a fan of mine."

A look of confusion crossed the woman's face.

"Of course, you'd probably know me better as _Nanami Kurosawa_."

The woman's face lit up like a Christmas tree. "You're the author?"

Tsubaki pulled herself a chair by the bed and tried to give the sick woman her best smile. "I don't normally do this, but your son was very convincing."

Mrs. Minamino reached for the stack of books sitting on the bedside table. The books were just barely out of her reach. Her fingers grazed the spines of her books yet they could never grasp them. Seeing her struggle, Shuichi went round the bed and fetched them for her.

"Thank you, Shuichi," Mrs. Minamino then turned to Tsubaki. "Would you mind terribly signing my copies?"

Tsubaki looked at the stack of books, sucking in air. She glanced at Mrs. Minamino who looked so happy and hopeful. Tsubaki wasn't supposed to do this either.

"Does anybody have a pen?"

How lucky for her that Shuichi just happened to find one on the bedside table, previously hidden by the stack of books.

Tsubaki thanked him and clicked the pen before grabbing one of the books. Flipping it to the page that lay between the title page and the first chapter, she stilled the pen over the paper.

"And to whom do I make this out to?"


	4. Chapter 4

UPDATE: 6/24/2016

* * *

Tsubaki stared at her _nome de plume_ glaring back at her as it stood starkly against the white page. She did it twice more to Mrs. Minamino's satisfaction. For a moment, Tsubaki thought that her heart started beating again; she was being far too comfortable around the humans. She glanced at the door, half expecting some evil lurking in its archway. Even when nothing happened and no one appeared, Tsubaki's unease could not be eased. Her palms felt wet, like they were coated in sweat, but that could have just been a trick of her mind. Vampires don't sweat. They don't even glisten.

"Miss Kurosawa, are you alright?"

Tsubaki lifted her head to meet Mrs. Minamino's gaze. She quietly closed the book and left the pen on the bed. "Oh, yes. I'm fine. Just thinking. Sorry, I tend to do that a lot. My mind just...drifts away from me sometimes."

"I don't mean to pry or take advantage of your generosity, but I was wandering if there was something you could also do for me?"

"I'm afraid my public sightings must end here. I'm sorry to say that I greatly enjoy my personal time and space. I like to be alone and visitations to book signings or clubs is out of the question." Tsubaki glanced at Shuichi standing not from her. It would be difficult to control both of their minds at the same time.

"No, no. Not that. I understand completely where you're coming from. This will be our little secret." Mrs. Minamino dropped her voice to a low, harsh whisper. "But I was wondering when you next novel might be coming out. I just need to know what Ami-chan is going to do with the file she stole from her..."

Tsubaki playfully pressed her finger against here mouth to keep Mrs. Minamino from saying anything else.

"No spoilers. I don't believe that your son has read any of my work yet."

"Oh," Mrs. Minamino chuckled. "Right."

"I'm afraid I rarely have the time to read for leisure."

"All work and no play makes for dull people." Tsubaki quipped.

A knocked at the door brought their attention to the nurse.

"Excuse me, Shuichi, but visiting hours are over. I'm afraid that you're going to have to leave and let your mother get some rest."

"Of course," Shuichi gestured towards the door. "I really should be going anyway. Tsubaki-san, would you like an escort home?"

Tsubaki bit her lower lip, thinking. The temptation of his blood had almost overpowered her the night before. If not for his mother's love, he might have had a hard time explaining the rather large hickey on his neck to her. Or worse, he'd be sprawled on out on the kitchen floor, drained of blood. She glanced at him. She couldn't ignore the soft pulsing on either side of his throat.

"I don't think so. I was planning to grab a bite to eat before heading home."

"Then, you wouldn't object to letting me pay for dinner? After all, you've been more than kind enough to visit my mother."

"Shuichi, you don't have to do that. Seeing her has been a treat enough. You shouldn't feel obligated to show my gratitude for me."

"It really wouldn't be a problem for me. Besides, Tsubaki-san looks like she could use something to eat."

The hunger was building in her fangs. He had no idea what he was doing.

"Sure," Tsubaki answered curtly. "Why not?"

Why not? _Why not_? _WHY NOT?_

There was a litany of reasons why not to follow Shuichi to a cafe and order food for her. To sit in a dimly lit booth with him. The electric lamps hanging above them hummed in her ears til they were ringing a constant annoying symphony accompanied by the occasional whirring of a blender and chatter of the other patrons.

The setting was almost romantic. The lights were turned down low, however Tsubaki still felt the urge to pull at her hoodie every time someone walked past their booth. Whether Shuichi saw this and was concerned or not, he made no mention of it. Neither did he seem to try make notice of it. He sat quietly in front of her, sipping his decaf coffee from a plain white ceramic mug. Tsubaki could only nibble at her BLT, extra bacon, and pick at the frothy foam overflowing from her cappuccino. The aromatic smell of crushed and flavored coffee beans reminded her of the time she tried to mix blood and coffee. Let's just say the results were not as pleasing as she had been expecting. Patrons, once in a while, stopped to look at the two of them sitting at booth, neither one of them speaking to the other. Puzzled looks gave away their concern. Shuichi Minamino was a fairly attractive young high school student. Then, there was Tsubaki, a gruff looking troll hiding her face with the hood of her sweatshirt. She was at least thankful that the lights had been turned down so low. Fewer people could see her face clearly.

Tsubaki choked down the rest of her sandwich. Her gums were burning for something more substantial than a couple pieces of bread, tomatoes, lettuce, and dead pig meat. She found her gaze fixed on Shuichi's throat, honed in on that vulnerable carotid artery. Unconsciously, she licked her lips.

"Is there something on my face?" Shuichi asked, touching his hand to his chin.

Tsubaki shook herself. "No, you're good."

"I'm sorry for dragging you out here like this. I can understand why you prefer your personal space so much. Are you, by any chance, agoraphobic?"

"Something like that. I've...never much cared for people. To be honest, this has been my social evening in a _very_ long time."

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

Embarrassed, all Tsubaki could do was look away and absentmindedly stir the remnants of her cappuccino. She sighed like a woman deeply in love with a man she could never have, sad and content to being miserable.

"I apologize. I didn't mean any offense."

Tsubaki waved off the unintended insult, but still felt the pinprick of something dreadfully painful stuck in her chest like a thorn jammed into the side of her heart.

"None taken. As you can tell, I don't have much luck in the affairs of the heart."

"Why is that? I think you're a lovely person. A bit abrasive."

Tsubaki couldn't help but laugh at that. She felt the corner of her lip twitch upwards in a half smirk.

"However, I'm sure you have your reasons for being so. Whoever he was, he was unfortunate to have let you go."

Tsubaki felt a dagger run down her spine. She tensed while Shuichi took the moment to enjoy his coffee. When he rested his cup down, he saw Tsubaki cradling her cheek. Her brows were furrowed and eyes screwed tightly shut.

"The last man I was with...was a cruel man. He did things to me, unspeakable things. He forced me to do things, to hurt people, something that I would have never done if he had not forced me to do them. And when I tried to leave him the first time, he gave me a parting gift." Tsubaki ran her thumb over the scars on her cheek. "Which is why I vowed to never fall in love with anyone or allow myself to be with someone. I could not handle the potential pain and torture as I went through years ago."

She rose before Shuichi could stop her.

"Thank you for the sandwich and coffee. I'll be going now."

Shuichi only stared at her, deep regret and guilt dimming his eyes. He rose too and tried to reach for her hand. Shuichi barely took hold of her wrist when she suddenly slipped away from him. He called out to her, but she either didn't hear or listen. Shuichi left a mess at the booth and started running after her. There was no way he could leave her in such a state. He managed to pass through the door. He looked everywhere down either side of the street and across from the cafe. There was no trace of her anywhere. Like she slipped into nothingness.

* * *

Tsubaki did hear him. She heard him call out to her but she didn't want to listen. She was busy berating herself for being so open with a human. A human, of all people? Her fangs bit into her gums causing sour blood to run down her dry throat. Thunder rolled over her head; in the far distance a clap of lightning lit the sky. It must have been hundreds of kilometers away, still Tsubaki could hear it as if it happened right next to her. The pit-patter of rain drops hitting pavement swiftly followed next. No matter where she was, even if she was in a crowd, Tsubaki always lifted her head towards the sky and let the rain wet her face. The night sky was darker with the thick rain clouds covering up the stars and the moon. Tsubaki stood in the middle of the sidewalk while others frantically rushed by in their pursuit of the nearest dry shelter. Their thoughts drove past her; she could hear them even if she didn't want to. Humans were so careless about how they said things, both with their mouths and in their thoughts. They were so loud, Tsubaki could barely hear herself think.

Lowering her head finally, Tsubaki stalked towards the city park where she could be alone in her thoughts and misery. The tree branches provided little shelter from the rain which had now begun to pour down in buckets upon buckets. In a clearing, she once more tilted her head back towards the sky. The rain pelted her face, though she could feel neither its wet touch nor the icy sting of cold tears watering her cheeks as well as the rest of her face. The numbness of having nearly dead flesh could leave one with only the feeling of misery and want. The deadly children of the vampire's curse, Misery, Want, Envy, Lust, Despair, and Loneliness, who would want to become a vampire in the first place with companions such as these? The years would stretch ever before you while the past with its crimson dyes painted your past with the blood of all your victims staining what was left of your soul devilishly and permanently red. In some desperate attempt to feel something, Tsubaki lifted her head to feel the rain on her face. Perhaps she would be able to feel something...anything. She would always be left disappointed, still it couldn't hurt to try.

"You'll catch your death of a cold, don't you know, little lady?"

Tsubaki's nose curled at the smell. Booze and cigarettes, two things that she couldn't stand. She slowly turned to find a bulking mass of a man standing under a red umbrella. He was dressed in a cheap dark business. The square black frames over his eyes were slightly bent out of shape, and a result one of the ear pieces rested a bit higher than the other. He was relatively handsome with dark hair cropped and slicked back, a nice angular face, and chiseled chin.

"What are you doing over there anyway? Standing in the middle of the rain like that without an umbrella? Aren't you afraid you'll get sick?"

Tsubaki didn't like the smell of him, and her dislike and distrust went beyond the man's odor. Something did not sit well with her. Honestly, he left her no choice to gently probe his memory while he was busy walking towards her. What she found made her dislike and distrust cement into rage and perfect loathing. Wild dogs like him should be put down.

"Funny, for a man who enjoys raping unsuspecting women, you ask a lot of questions."

He stopped in mid-track. His pupils dilated; she could hear his heart beating a little faster. The man tried to calm himself, though she had already seen his symptoms, and put on a cocky bravado.

"I don't know what you mean. Do I look like the kind of man who would do such a horrible thing?" He smiled. It looked nice. Too bad it was full of lies and garbage.

"There's no particular look to a rapist. In fact, I wager that you're better at it than most because you look so non-threatening. Is that how it started? Women wouldn't give you the time of day because you weren't _man_ enough so you forced them to pay attention to you? Or, does it have anything to do with your mother?"

Tsubaki watched his dark eyes glean with something desperate and dangerous, like a starving man looking at an endless buffet. He dropped his umbrella, never minding how hard the rain would pelt him as soon as he dropped it. He was fast for a human; his long legs did a good job drawing the distance between him and her to a close. She let him grab her shoulders and drag her behind a thorny bush, further away from any possible prying eyes. He pinned her to the damp ground, wrists held above her head as he loosened the tie around his neck and popping one of his collar buttons as he did so. His dark eyes glistened dangerously with primal hunger. He licked his lips as his free hand probed up the side of her body until he cupped cheek, the side that was scarred over a hundred years ago. His thumb traced her scars. While he allowed himself to be distracted, if not strangely fascinated by her scars, Tsubaki further probed his brain for more clues to who this man really was, and therefore find a way to kill him.

"Too bad about these scars. You'd be so much prettier without them."

"I know." Tsubaki said nonchalantly.

"Who gave them to you, if I may ask?"

Tsubaki couldn't help but quirk her brow. "You're about to rape me and you're asking about a scar?"

His free hand crawled downwards, reached under Tsubaki, and grabbed a handful of her buttocks.

"What can I say?" He gave a playful squeeze. "I'm curious about you. You look so young and yet so old at the same time. Like you were born in a different place, a different plane, different time. It's very attractive."

"I'm _so_ glad you think so." She was quickly getting bored. If all rapists chattered on like this, how on earth did they commit their crimes?

"Right, I suppose we should get this over with. If you show me a good time, I might let you live. I've done it before."

Tsubaki chuckled, startling her 'attacker.' "No, you haven't."

"Eh? What did you say?" He released her cheek and gripped her wrists even tighter.

"I said you haven't killed anyone yet. You raped your last two victims. Emotionally and psychologically scarred them for life, but you didn't kill them. If you kill me, you'll only make your addiction worse. You've raped before, but then you'll want to rape and kill again. Slowly descending into madness as the hunger for power and domination over women takes control of you and there'll be nothing left of you. Only a sad little man with his sadistic fantasies. Is that what you want, _Shoujiro Okimura_?"

The man's face paled. His trembling lips threatened to speak so she clamped her hand around his mouth. It was no feat of strength for her to push him backwards, onto the ground, and all while her hand was still firmly over his mouth. Straddling him at the waist, she press both hands around his throat. Okimura grasped and clawed at her hands, drawing blood. He became a desperate animal. His eyes were pealed wide open, panicked. But all he saw was the merciless face of a monster glaring back down at him, black eyes full of righteous hatred.

"I'm going to make you feel what those women felt when you violated them, Shoujiro Okimura. You'll feel your life drained out of your body while I'm inside you. And you'll die, slowly with your body feeling like it's been set on fire."

The rain pelted her back, though they may as well have been cotton balls. The rain dripped down her face unto Okimura's and his hands as well. Tsubaki threw back her head to prepare for her attack. Her jaws unhinged. A sick crunch and squelch ripped through her mouth as her fangs grew longer and sharper. She wanted to make sure this hurt like hell.

With her hands wrapped so firmly around his throat, Okimura couldn't scream. All the sound was choked out of him. The last thing he would see before she sunk her teeth into was her face screwed up as if in agony, silver fangs glowing against the darkness, and eyes blood-red and hypnotic.

Tsubaki pounced. She moved her hands from his throat to his shoulders, effectively pinning him down into the mud. Her fangs sunk deep into his artery with an awful, wet squish. When he once more threatened to call for help, Tsubaki had no choice but to clamp her hand back down over his mouth. His screams were muffled. The thunder and lightning swallowed up the rest of his noise.

His blood tasted awful. It was foul and gross. It burned her throat as she swallowed and sang of talents wasted and demented needs. It stung as it went down. She couldn't drink all of him, even though she wanted to. Her fangs retracted without meaning to. Her insides felt like she swallowed an entire bottle of vinegar too far past its expiration date to be useful.

Tsubaki snapped her neck to get away from the source of her greatest discomfort in over fifty years. She ended up spitting out some of the foul blood. She was long-overdue for a teeth-brushing anyway. Finally, she turned her attention back to Okimura. His pulse was weak, but it was still there. She couldn't let him die solemnly into the night. Oh no.

Her claws were perfect for ripping out what was left of him and running the ground with his soiled blood. She watched the light in his eyes flicker and die. The tie was removed from his neck. Tsubaki turned the body onto its stomach and tightened the tie around the wrists, hard. She stood up and looked at her work. Every once in a while, being a writer came in handy. It gave you all sorts of ideas on how to get away with murder. Satisfied with her work, Tsubaki sank, literally, into the shadows and flitted home.

Ignoring her familiars, she crawled into bed soaking wet, exhausted and suffering from an almighty stomachache.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey there! Bet you thought I forgot all about this little number, right? I'll admit, I have been negligent in my duties. But to be fair I was in school and pretty busy writing my first book. No, seriously, I was writing a literal book, available relatively soon from Amazon. Anyways, I've got an idea that I'd like to pass by you guys if you're interested. For every five chapters in this fiction, I'd like to write brief snippets to fill in. Nothing that will change the overall plot or lasts longer than 2000 words. Just short fictions that will go along with this one. Consider them special features for between chapters so we all can take a breath. For the first one, I'm a little unsure of what to do. I'm asking if there's anything you guys want to see. Please remember that it has to relate to the canon of this fanfiction (ironic right?), has to pertain to something about the characters thus presented and/or how the relationships work, and backstory for the main OC, Tsubaki. Keep it simple yet interesting. Show me some imagination and I'll do my best to answer your suggestions in the next cession. Thanks lovelies!

* * *

Even in her dreams, Tsubaki brooded. And when she brooded, the existential crisis returned with full strength. As any good stereotypical vampire would do, she contemplated the meaning of her "un-life," as they called it, and brooded over the fact that something or someone had pushed past her comfort zone. When she dreamed of red hair, she thought it a nightmare but then she would be greeted with a pair of kind green eyes and a tender smile. Tsubaki felt a false pulse and a warm, fuzzy feeling growing inside of her chest.

Then again, that just might be the indigestion talking.

"Master."

"Master."

"Master."

"Master!"

Tsubaki cracked open her eyes. Two black and white blobs appeared before her dimmed eyes before she thoroughly rubbed them, shaking the tired weakness from them.

"What?"

"It's five in the evening. Shouldn't you be getting up now?"

Tsubaki cracked her neck. She groaned and got out of bed. One long, hot shower later, Tsubaki was dried, dressed, and clean again. Her stomach was churning, no thanks to that filthy human's blood still simmering in her system. Licking her lips, she could still taste him on her tongue like a day-old road kill and produced the same effect. Tsubaki grabbed another blood pack and made herself on her couch. Izanami and Izanagi appeared out of nowhere and rested on the back of the couch, perching like birds.

"Are you alright, Master?" Izanagi had always been the one to show more concern than his mate. Then again, he was much more of a sycophant than she was.

"I'm okay. I just ate something not very good for me."

"He must have tasted awful." Izanami chimed. "I haven't trusted him since the moment I saw him."

"Shuichi? No, no. You're mistaken. I didn't bite him."

"Master, is that wise? He could catch us at any time."

"He's completely unaware of what I really am. He saw me eat mortal food in front of him. He believes that I have agoraphobia. To him, I'm eccentric but the furthest thing on his mind is the idea that I'm a vampire. I don't think he even believes in those things. He's far too rational." Tsubaki plunged a straw into the blood pack and started sucking. The cold blood did little to make her feel better but at least it was starting to get rid of the awful aftertaste still lingering on her tongue.

She finished it within minutes. Tsubaki sat up, empty blood pack still in hand.

"Can I ask you two something personal?"

"Master?" She made her familiars confused. They glanced at each other, unsure of what else to say.

"Do you think I should get new friends?"

"Aren't we enough? Are you bored of us already?" Asked Izanami. She was the clingy type after all. Her eyes were held open wide and unblinking. Tsubaki could feel the familiar's heart starting to race with almighty fear.

"No. I'm not trying to say that at all. What I mean is...What I mean to say is that do you think I should get out more?"

"You go out almost every single night."

"To drink. But when I'm with Shuichi, I almost feel human again. He doesn't see me as anything too out of the ordinary. He's kind, perhaps the kindest person, vampire or human, I've met in a very long time."

"But I thought you wanted to get away from him. Why change your mind?" Izanami pressed the issue.

"Vampires and humans...together? Master, are you sure you're feeling well?"

Tsubaki unleashed a furious growl. She stomped away from the couch and headed for the front door.

"Never mind! I'll be back later." The door was slammed shut behind her. Tsubaki stood on her porch for a minute or two in order to collect herself, to calm down. Finally, once she felt a bit better, she pulled the hood over her jacket over her head and started off into the dusk.

She found a couple of easy pickings and made quick work of them, leaving them alive in the gutters before she let her feet do the walking for her. Tsubaki should have been surprised where they led her, however it was difficult to say that she was. Her instincts had been pulling at her for a good hour and a half to turn the other direction, go down a different street, and turn back. Anything to avoid this place. She looked up. She stood outside the hospital again. Sighing, Tsubaki entered and found Mrs. Minamino's room. Shuichi was nowhere to be found.

"Mrs. Minamino." Tsubaki knocked before entering. "Where's your son?"

"He'll be here in a little while. He called me earlier saying that he was going to be late. Someone wanted his help with a school project." Mrs. Minamino patted her hand on the armchair by the bed. "Have a seat."

Tsubaki gratefully took the offering. Mrs. Minamino's condition was worsening. She could smell it in the air and hear the woman's heart rate falling far below than what was normal and healthy. Her complexion was unbecoming. It reminded Tsubaki of the same complexion she faced every day in the mirror. Mrs. Minamino looked positively gray, pallid, sickly, everything you would associate with someone who was knocking at Death's door. Did her son know?

"How are you feeling?" Tsubaki asked.

"Oh," there was an air of solemn acceptance of her fate escaping from Mrs. Minamino's tone. Her shoulders slacked. Her gaze was affixed to her small hands in her lap. Then, suddenly, she raised her head and put on her bravest mask, one that Tsubaki had seen time and time again when someone was simply trying to find the right way to tell a loved one that their time on earth was coming to a close. Mrs. Minamino was far too kind to tell her son the exact truth. "I wasn't feeling very well earlier, but the doctors helped me get through it and I was able to keep my lunch down today."

"That's good to here."

Pity ate Tsubaki up from the inside out. One would think that being over a hundred years old, this sort of thing would no longer effect a vampire. Tsubaki wasn't the typical vampire anyway. It didn't matter how old she got, the sight of human suffering struck a chord with her. It was perhaps because humans generally treated her better than her own kind. But that was a story for another day.

Tsubaki grasped Mrs. Minamino's hand. It was nearly as cold and stiff as her own. She gave the sick woman a good squeeze and returned the smile with one of her own.

"I'm sure you'll get better soon. I know it. Don't lose hope. You have someone who wants to see you get well soon."

"And what about you, Miss Kurosawa? Do you have someone who cares about you?" At least Tsubaki could get Mrs. Minamino's mood lightened with a change of subject from things less morbid.

"Not really. Nobody personally. I have my… _cats_ but they can be so demanding and whiny sometimes. Do you have pets, Mrs. Minamino?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not. Terribly allergic."

"You said that your son was going to school. Which high school?"

"Meiou."

"Oh, that's a good one."

"Did you attend there?"

"No, I was homeschooled." Which wasn't entirely a lie, though why would Tsubaki care if she was honest or not with this woman?

"How old are you, Kurosawa-san?"

Tsubaki thought she felt another false pulse ignite her dead heart back to life again. She had to quickly come up with a story before the woman asked the wrong kind of questions, the kind that could get her killed before the disease could.

"Nineteen. I know I look a little younger than I am. Probably because I don't go out into the sun as much as others and get effected by UV rays." She forced herself to chuckle when there was nothing funny to be said here. Mrs. Minamino was becoming dangerously close to forcing Tsubaki's hand. Discretion and secrecy were key to her survival.

But speaking of survival…

Yes, discretion and secrecy were important. Tsubaki lived under the names of several aliases, both in the past and present. There were things that she had been taught not to do and many she learned on her own because they were just common sense for a vampire. Always watch for witnesses and cameras. Don't stay out in the sun too long. Don't try to use glamor on certain kinds of people because they'll pick up on it right away. Things such as that. Mrs. Minamino was a sick, fragile, and innocent human. She needn't worry about the things that go bump in the night. Tsubaki's unbeating heart fluttered at the sight of the sick human. It started to tear her to pieces. Mrs. Minamino was such a lovely woman, and it would be a shame to leave her boy all alone to fend for himself in this cold, cruel world that Tsubaki had seen too much of already. Which was why she moved back to Japan in the first place, to live and work in a more familiar setting.

Tsubaki's mind turned to the young man who seemed insistent on befriending her. The once-beating heart laying dormant in her ribcage felt all a flutter when her mind turned to him. It felt like being a young school girl falling in love, but Tsubaki knew the consequences of their friendship and why it would never work. Even if it was just that, there was no hope of anything beyond it, if she wanted that, that is. Once more, she felt a false pulse sing in her chest and vibrate through her ribcage, rattling her old bones. The boy, Tsubaki couldn't easily forget about the boy. Shuichi had been so kind to her. He had given her no sign that he would be cruel, with or without his knowledge of her unlife. She bit her lip and almost showed Mrs. Minamino the sharp white fang protruding from her fangs.

"Kurosawa-san? Are you alright?" Mrs. Minamino wheezed.

Shaking her head, Tsubaki drew herself away from her thoughts. She gave the human woman a pitiful glance without trying to look so pitiful.

"I'm fine. I was just thinking. I do that a lot. I'm sorry. Often times I'm drawn away from the real world and into—"

"Books, right? You are a writer after all." Mrs. Minamino chuckled.

"Yes." Tsubaki nodded. "My books."

"Was there something you wanted to ask me? You looked like you had something you wanted to say."

Tsubaki looked at her again and gave Mrs. Minamino another firm hand squeeze. The human's hand felt so light in hers. It almost felt lifeless. The blood in Mrs. Minamino's veins were weak; they were so thin, they were dying. She was dying. Images of Shuichi all alone in the city drove Tsubaki to thoughts that were forbidden and unthinkable.

Yet she thought them anyway.

To humans, her blood was life. There wasn't an injury or disease that vampire blood couldn't cure. None that Tsubaki could name at least. Whatever illness plagued Mrs. Minamino would be gone forever with just a few drops of her blood. That's all it would take. She would be cured. There would be no risk for Shuichi to lose his mother presently.

Tsubaki's superiors would put their foot down and snap her prostrated neck if she even thought about doing such things without their permission. Then again, who would be the wiser? Who could Mrs. Minamino tell? And Shuichi wouldn't know. And hospitals see miraculous recoveries every day. This wouldn't be anything too strange or out of the ordinary. She could glamor any potentional witnesses. There were no cameras in the hospital room. It could be done so easily.

"Mrs. Minamino, if there was a way for you to get better would you take the chance?" Tsubaki leaned close so that the sick woman could hear her.

Mrs. Minamino nodded her head though the hint of confusion and disbelief crossed her face. "Kurosawa-san, what are you—"

"I'm sorry, ma'am," a nurse had quietly stepped into the room. How she did this without Tsubaki noticing? "But visiting hours are over. I'm afraid that you're going to have to leave."

Tsubaki glanced at the nurse. Once she was satisfied that the nurse was wholly human and found no trace of hidden glamor, Tsubaki rose completely out of her seat. She took Mrs. Minamino's hand in her own and gave it a firm squeeze as if making a promise. In a way, she was.

"I'll come by to tomorrow and see how well you're doing then. Alright? Try not to think too much about what I said." Tsubaki left the room as quietly as she left and made leave of the hospital.

That night, she had no other drop to drink. Tsubaki had filled herself up with something far less appetizing and more tiresome that kept her waiting all night into the day before she flopped face first into her mattress to wait for an appropriate time to revisit the hospital room.

"Master? Izanami woke her up. Her tiny black paw poked Tsubaki's shoulder.

Tsubaki stretched and yawned. Rubbing her eyes, she peered at her clock reading five-fifteen. Judging by the slivers of orange-red light glowing against her bedroom wall, it was in the early evening.

"What's the matter?"

"You have a message from…you know who." Answered the familiar.

She sighed. Tsubaki hated it when Izanami and Izanagi were vague. She wasn't sure if it was a familiar thing or a trait they retained from their lives as mortal cats. Either way, it annoyed her to death…in a manner of speaking.

"I know quite a few 'you know who's'. You're going to need to be more specific." Tsubaki crawled out of bed and started to strip. Not like her familiars would have cared.

"It was, um, Chiyo-sama," Izanami shyly answered.

Tsubaki stopped what she was doing. She held her old shirt in her hand and turned about face to stare at her familiar.

"Chiyo-sama?" The name alone sent a chill down every vampire's spine throughout the southern region. "Are you sure?"

Izanami bowed her fluffy white head. "For certain. You told us to take messages only from her and Mako-sama. She had one of her scions deliver you a message. We left it on the table..."

Tsubaki stopped listening after a while. She changed her clothes, slipping into a pair of clean presentable black skinny jeans, a fairly decent blouse, and a thin black scarf to go about her neck. She fussed with her hair, her scar, poking and pinching her skin like that would do her any good or replace any lively color back into her cheeks.

 _Chiyo-sama_. _What could she possibly want?_

Tsubaki swallowed hard as she continued fuss over her looks, applying the palest shade of cover-up over the bags hanging under her onyx eyes, glossy liner to her eyelids, and dark lipstick. Her hair was more difficult to work with. After giving up, she left it alone after running a brush through her hair three dozen times to at least make it look shiny and not hanging over her face like the creepy child from those horror movies. She tossed a pair of boots to the bottom of the front door and ran over to her kitchen table. There lay folded piece of parchment with Chiyo-sama's hallmark, a black lotus set inside a circle and accented on either side with silver moons. Tsubaki grabbed it and jumped to her to save time. Her feet crammed inside the boots, Tsubaki picked up her keys and made a quick exit, locking the door behind her.

Lo and behold, the impatient child that Chiyo-sama ever would be had a car waiting for Tsubaki out in the open where the neighbors could see. Tsubaki wasted no time in climbing in and slamming the door shut. A small number of Chiyo-sama's other scions guarded the inside as if she expected Tsubaki to feed off the driver or worse, do damage to the car out of spite. It appeared to be a very new and very fashionable car. Then again, Chiyo-sama was all about appearances and the fancy life and the expensive _everything_. It came as no surprise to Tsubaki that Chiyo-sama had summoned an imported luxury car to take Tsubaki wherever the vampire queen needed her to go.

"Tsubaki-san," one of the three gestured politely. She didn't know his name but she returned the gesture with a slight nod of her head.

The ride lasted longer than Tsubaki expected. She didn't bother looking at her phone to see the time, mostly because she accidentally left it home. And even if she had it with her, Tsubaki didn't want to appear rude before Chiyo-sama's scions. They were her eyes and ears; they wouldn't let a considerably mild slip of manners pass them over and forget to report it to their master. Tsubaki sat uncomfortably in her seat. Her stomach lurched as the time passed. They didn't even offer up a blood bag, now who was the rude one?

Finally, they arrived at a small mansion far from the interests of normal humans. A little manor over-looking the sea, a blue and white Victorian doll house sitting on a sturdy cliff. The sunset hit the manor in just the right way that the windows all looked like they had been lit up by fire glowing pure and bright. Tsubaki was guarded both back and front as they guided her inside. The silly rule about vampires entering a house uninvited only applied to those abodes in which the living dwelled. So long as no living human resided under its roof, vampire could come and go at Chiyo-sama's leisure. Or not, it all greatly depended on her mood.

Chiyo-sama sat in a silver-gilt throne and bedecked all in frills and lace like porcelain doll. Japan's oldest vampire remained as a child, largely on the outside and on the inside. Her dresses resembled the European foppery of the 18th century with the necklines of a Victorian doll. Wrapped up in this love affair with black chiffon-silk and soft burgundy lace, Chiyo-sama snuggled with a black velvet rabbit in her lap. It glared at Tsubaki who knelt before the throne on one knee.

"Chiyo-sama, you called for me?" It took everything Tsubaki had within her not to stammer in the vampire queen's presence. Despite her appearance, Chiyo-sama was not a vampire you wanted to make an enemy out of.

"Tsu-chan, I want you to look at me." The childish vampire ordered.

Tsubaki slowly lifted her head and looked Chiyo-sama in the eye.

"Very good. I was worried that you forgot how to obey orders. Of course, you really have no choice, do you?" She giggled, swinging her legs under her throne.

"Yes, Chiyo-sama," Tsubaki uttered.

"I have a job for you to do. My sources tell me that three nasty demons are set on stealing some artifacts from Prince Koenma. That's not very nice if you ask me." Chiyo-sama huffed. "What do you think, Tsu-chan? Should let them get away with it?"

"And, what does this have to do with our kind, Chiyo-sama. Forgive me if I sound impudent," Tsubaki bowed her head for safe measures.

"You're so silly, Tsu-chan I need you to stop them. If they were allowed to run amok with these artifacts, our blood supply goes down. Drastically. We all need to eat. Humans are an important part of the food chain in this plane of existence. We can't let a bunch of ordinary demons have their way with our food supply, right, Haru-chan?" Chiyo-sama asked her second in command, Haruka Shizune, former samurai under Oda Nobunaga.

"Yes, Chiyo-sama." He answered with an air of stern fealty.

This made the old vampire giggle like a school girl. "You heard the man, Tsu-chan! Teach them a lesson. Stop them by any means necessary!"

"As you command, Chiyo-sama." Tsubaki bowed all the way to the ground before rising. She left the room without ever turning her back on the vampire queen, keeping her head bowed. Leaving the manor without further hindrance, Tsubaki throw herself over the railing along the front veranda and heaved. Vampires didn't need to breath for obvious reasons but being in Chiyo-sama's presence felt like Tsubaki was human again and she had been holding her breath the entire time.

The car drove her back into the city. They dumped her outside of her house. What Tsubaki failed to tell Chiyo-sama that she was already well aware of the demons the latter spoke of. Or at least some glimmer of who they were and what they were up to. It couldn't have been a coincidence that some random demon asked for her help in a _business adventure._ Chiyo-sama needn't know that detail. Not quite yet. _Let's just hurry up and kill them_ was Tsubaki's first thought.

Walking back to the place where she first met the demon Hiei, Tsubaki sniffed the area for his scent. The rain had largely washed it away, but the faint scent remained. The beauty of tracking down a demon was that it was much easier than a human. Their scents lasted longer than a mere mortal's and they were twice as strong, if not more so. Eventually, Tsubaki picked up the scent of brimstone and Hiei's natural smell. She didn't focus on both him and his partner because it was easier to trace one scent instead of two. For the rest of the evening Tsubaki followed her nose despite her stomach churning with hunger. Killing the demons would not be an easy mission, though not impossible. Yet, this didn't give Tsubaki much comfort as her ability to fight and kill worried her the most as she hadn't done so in a very, very long time. Her fighting skills had dwindled into subpar abilities since the late 19th century. She was sure that the demons would put up much more of a fight. There were just two of them, right? As far as Tsubaki knew, there were no others. This gave her a little confidence but she still remained unsure about her prospects.

The scent drove her into familiar territory, the seedy alleys of the city where Tsubaki had many a feasts on drunkards and prostitutes. Wretched smells of garbage and other refuse threatened to block out the demon's scent. Thankfully, at over a hundred years old, Tsubaki's sense of smell proved stronger. The city gave way to a small wooded area. Too big to be a park and too small to be a forest, the pine, maple, and oak trees littered the tall grass like giant wooden centinels. Tsubaki followed the scent further along the unbeaten path. It dragged her through brush and trees and thorny thickets until the trees split away into a clearing.

Tsubaki ducked behind the trees. As it appeared, she went unnoticed. Slithering about the shadows in the trees as a literal shadow, her scent became masked in that very darkness that sprung out of her vampire powers. Her presence went unnoticed due to lack of pulse and attention-drawing energy, or lack thereof one should say. The three criminal cohorts would never see her coming. It was the perfect sneak attack. All Tsubaki had to do was….

Wait.

She sniffed the air.

Something wasn't right. There was a scent that didn't belong here. Something didn't smell right. Tsubaki sniffed the air again. Her nose couldn't be mistaken twice in one day. It had already proven that her vampire sense of smell was superior to other races living on earth. It wouldn't lie to her now. Then, it must be an illusion, she decided.

Tsubaki peaked around the trees for a better look. She counted the heads. One. Two. Three. She already recognized the first two, Hiei and Gouki. The third nearly had her clawing at the tree trunk behind which she hid. She blinked. Her eyes couldn't be right either.

There were two things that were the cause of this. Number one, her sense of sight and smell were not up to snuff. Number two, the option which she hated the most but also proved the most likely, Shuichi stood among their ranks. The boy, what was he doing here?

Chiyo-sama's words rang inside Tsubaki's head like a tormenting song.

 _Stop them by any means necessary!_

What she meant, what she always meant, was to kill them.


	6. Side Story 1: All That Jazz

This little chapter is more of a side chapter. It has little to do with the continuing plot, but more of a background for my character Tsubaki. I do plan on writing more of them, each varying in setting, action, and where it falls in the general time line. Future ones will include Kurama, but only after a certain level of relationship has been well established. Please, feel free to send me any requests you'd like to see in a future side chapter, which will happen after every five chapters. Thanks a whole bunch!

Warning: Slight adult content (nothing serious as full-blown adult content but I'd thought I'd give you a head's up anyway)

* * *

 _June 1926_

 _Melbourne, Australia_

Thin fingers wrapped around the warm martini glass that she could have easily snapped in two without a thought, never mind how much the bar tender who had been staring at her for the past twenty minutes would make her pay to replace it. His gaze remained fixed and cold. He fixed his blonde hair as a piece fell away from his swept-back quaff while he ran a semi-clean rag up and down the bar. Pale lips swallowed the contents of the martini glass in one go before an equally pale hand pushed the empty glass towards the bar tender again.

"Another." She ordered with a voice barely above a harsh rasp like she had a vice grip around her throat.

"Another?" He looked at the martini glass and then looked at her.

Tsubaki kept her head down. Her face lay hidden by the shadows of the poorly lit dive bar and by the gloomy black wool cloche hat that kept her eyes out of view from the public. She pulled her long, worn cardigan closer to her chest, stretching the yarn threads to their limit. It was a pointless gesture considering that her flesh couldn't feel the cold anymore. Still, gave her some comfort. She could at least feel the texture of the yarn under her fingers. The bar tender grabbed the glass from her.

"What brings you to Melbourne, little lady?"

Tsubaki believed that he only asked because there was no one else at the establishment. She should have been insulted. He asked the question neither out of politeness nor to welcome her; simply to make some kind of conversation with somebody. So incredibly selfish.

"I wanted to get away." Tsubaki licked her lips.

The bar tender seemed surprised by something. After he opened his mouth, she understood why.

"Your accent is very good. Where did you learn English?"

Tsubaki gritted her teeth and her tiny fists tightened under the bar where the operator couldn't see her knuckles turn white. That man, one of many, hadn't been the first to ask such a condescending question. And with such a surprised tone too! As if somebody who wasn't born west of the Caucasus Mountains couldn't be bothered to learn English? Out of the people she had met, it seemed that white men were particularly surprised with her knowledge of the English language. She could only hope that with time men like them would broaden their minds just enough to not contend with someone's accent, but that seemed a long ways away.

"I had a tutor. Can I get another?" She asked with a bowed head. Her fangs were aching. Her throat grew dry. The presence of vital, vibrant blood lay just an arm's length away from her hungry grasp. If her stomach could, it would growl like a lion from want. She licked her lips again and felt achingly chapped, dry lips meet her cold tongue. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the front door remained still. Hardly a shadow passed by the large windows.

"How many have you had tonight?"

"Just two." Tsubaki lied. In truth, she'd been drinking all night yet it still felt as if she hadn't anything even a drop of water slither down her throat. The beauty of being dead was that you could drink until the end of time and you would never be drunk. If she had been mortal, her body would have crashed and burned from alcohol poisoning.

"Another apple martini?" The bar tender asked.

Tsubaki didn't answer. She just nodded.

"Coming up."

Tsubaki shifted in that cheap and fairly uncomfortable bar stool as he turned his back to her and started another drink for her. It wasn't the stool itself that caused her great discomfort. The thirst started crawling up from her throat and seeped into her brain with the malcontent hunger that forced her eyes upwards to stare at the vein in the bar tender's neck. Thick, rich blood lay there just beyond the flimsy veil of flesh. He stood a bit taller than her, but then again a lot of people were still taller than her. The gods did not gift to her incredible height, and being turned she could no longer grow. He seemed healthy. She could see his muscles flex and ripple underneath the white button-up shirt he wore. She watched as the armbands around both biceps stretch as he mixed her drink, how the pieces of fabric strained against his muscles. Biting her lip, Tsubaki wondered if this was how it felt when a man saw a can-can dancer's scandalous garter around her thigh for the first time. The bar tender's European appearance played no part in her sudden interest. Tsubaki stopped being surprised and curious about any man, European or otherwise, a very long time ago. The different races she had seen failed to garner her attention for at least the last three or four decades. It was the blood running through the man's veins that kept her attention. How it throbbed under his flesh. How she could hear his heart beat through his shirt and vest. How scintillating his scent was and how it produced a wicked desire in Tsubaki to bite and run, though that had a slightly different meaning than one might assume. Colloquially, Tsubaki came to understand the term as used by Western vampires to mean performing coitus with a human and drinking their blood when they (either the vampire or their human partner) reach climaxed. While a useful and effective technique in drawing blood, a 'bite and run' was still considered faux pas for vampires, especially female ones. It wasn't unusual to keep one particular human laying around the coven for the purposes of both blood and sex, but outside of that mortal mores still held a grip on some vampires, particularly those of the European persuasion. Tsubaki didn't quite understand what was so demoralizing about the act, though she wasn't fond of the idea either. For her, drinking would be of necessity rather than pleasure. Besides, she couldn't imagine someone's flesh rubbing against.

 _Le sang est la vie._

"Here you go." The martini glass clattered softly onto the garnished wood bar before her.

Tsubaki raised her head slightly after sliding a few extra pounds across the bar. The bar tender lifted up the notes, held them up to the lights and performed a quick inspection of each, making sure she was paying him with real money. Once his inspection satisfied him that her money was good, he stuffed the money in the register. He tried handing her back the change, but Tsubaki refused, shaking her head.

"Keep the change."

The man shrugged, smiling a little and replaced the money back into the register for safe keeping. Tsubaki took her time with drink this time. She bent her head down this time, lower than before. Her sips were small. They were barely enough to get any taste on her tongue at all. Not that it really mattered. Without blood, everything tasted like ash and drink was just a memory. She tried not to look at the man behind the bar. He turned his back to her, rearranging the bottles of booze and wiping up the giant mirror that stood behind the bar.

Tsubaki finally gulped the last draught as if swallowing a whole bottle of liquid courage, as if she needed some kind of reassurance from the gods of drunkenness or to keep the bloody tears from streaming down her cheeks. It felt like she swallowed water tainted with bitter-apples that had rot to the core. There was no tang, no tartness, no sweetness. Only a watered down nightmare that slithered down her throat, making her thirstier.

"Another," her voice quivered as she continued to fight the urge to reach over the bar and pounce on the man. A rude and possibly xenophobic man, but not one deserving to be made a meal out of.

"I don't think so, little lady." He didn't hesitate to refuse her. "I think you've had enough."

"I have enough money to pay you. What's one more drink?"

"It's not a matter of paying. It's a matter of handling your drink. You're a skinny little Sheila. I'd feel bad if I let you leave three-sheets. Can you even stand?" Tsubaki heard a slight twinge of concern though she remained uncertain that it was for her safety (not that she needed to worry) or for his own sake. It would be bad business if something should happen to her in the dead of the night after visiting his bar. Or maybe he just didn't want to get questioned by police if she went missing after she left the bar? In any case, that wasn't the point.

"I can handle my drinks just fine. Just get me another." Her patience was wearing thin. Her fangs threatened to reveal her dark and dirty secret.

"I think you've had enough," the bar tender reached for her wrist and taking it firmly. "Let me sit you down in the back and I'll call a cab for you."

"You don't understand." Tsubaki hissed. She _let_ him slowly pull her away. Even in this state, she could easily break his arm.

"Let me get you settled and if you feel like talkin' I'm all ears. Let's just settle you down right here—"

Tsubaki grabbed his arms. Her nails dug into his shirt; her claws threatened to rip the sleeves away from him. As the tips of her newly-formed talons bit into his skin through the fabric, the bar tender got a good look at her. Red tears bubbled at the corner of her eyes. She had been starving herself for a little more than a week. When he touched her, her will broke. She couldn't make it as long as she thought she could. She told herself not to get into trouble however when his hand touched her, it set off an explosion inside of her body. A set of dominoes came tumbling down one after the other. Without realizing it until it was too late, the bar tender pulled the trigger her desperate hunger needed to change her mind. Her will power evaporate like rain in the sun. She could no longer fight it. There was no strength left in her for that.

"You don't understand." She licked her lips again. Her tongue smoothed over her fangs that twinkled in the yellowish lamps over the bar. "I'm just so _thirsty_."

The bar tender couldn't get rid of her. He fought back. He twisted his arms about, trying to loosen her grip but the second he saw her fangs glimmer in the lamp-light, his body shut down. These were no human teeth. These were the fangs of a monster.

"I'm so very thirsty." Tsubaki gave a pained sigh.

Pushing the bar tender to the floor was as easy as knocking over a sandcastle. His physical prowess was nothing compared to Tsubaki's, even if she was less than a century old. As his spine hit the floor like a ton of bricks, his eyes slammed shut at the sudden fall. Tsubaki crawled on top of him, straddling his waist. She flung her coat away from. Her maroon dress curved around her near-straight figure like she had something to offer. It was of cheap cotton, something cool and slinky for those hot summer nights that she would never feel on her skin quite the same away. His eyes darted up and down her figure; he resisted running his hands up her lace stockings that caressed her exposed legs.

"Please," Tsubaki begged. "Just a little drink."

Her eyes zoned in on his throat. Her fingers made quick work of the buttons that sealed up the protective collar around his throat and discarded the bowtie. She tossed somewhere behind her, however where it landed was of little consequence now.

Before her prize could fight back or scream, Tsubaki sealed her mouth around his flesh and clamped her teeth where the shoulder met his neck. His life-blood poured quickly into her mouth, almost too quickly. She lapped her tongue around the wound as her fangs continued to dive into the divine mortal flesh that acted as a flask for the drink her body so desired. It poured down her throat, fulfilling nearly every need. Her parched throat now left like the annual flood lands of Egypt, a red Nile gushed down her lips, past her gums and filled her thirsty lands with fertile life. Tsubaki moaned at the taste. Her hunger drove the pleasure and taste through every pore. It was almost as if she had been brought back to life.

She could hardly content herself. In her drunken state, her body writhed and squirmed on top of her victim. His hands gripped her hips, and if it could, her flesh would bruise where he grabbed her. Tsubaki continued to drink from her plentiful wine-press while they both satisfied another kind of hunger. He was rough with her just as much as she was with him. If they had more time, they probably would have clawed each other's clothes off and dispensed with the formalities of getting to know each other before diving right into the pool of carnal pleasures. As they were both drunk on something, there wouldn't be enough to time to even do any of that. Tsubaki rolled her hips with him. He completed before she licked the last drop she wanted from him.

Just before he passed out, she gave him a small drop of her own blood to keep him alive. She feared she might have had too much from him. She couldn't afford to leave a body in her wake. Tsubaki glamored him just before he finally slipped into unconsciousness. He wouldn't remember what she did to him or her face, she made sure of that.

Climbed off him, Tsubaki rearranged her dress and put on her extra-long cardigan. She wiped her mouth on the sleeves and made her way from around the bar. She smelled the air. Other than the scent of blood, and certain other body fluids, she could find nothing out of the ordinary. She crossed the tavern. She flipped the 'OPEN' sign over as she left and entered into the darkness.


End file.
